Inter Nos
by Major Clanger
Summary: Jack has something to ask Daniel. They talk, they drink beer, they eat pizza....


**_Inter Nos_**

**_by_**

**_Major Clanger_**

"I've been meaning to ask you this for a while." Jack completed a three-hundred-and-sixty degree turn on his stool, then kicked off in the other direction.

"What?" Daniel looked up from his desk, not managing to hide his annoyance at the interruption.

"It's difficult." Jack looked uncharactistically uncomfortable. So much so that Daniel put down his pen and directed his full attention at the Colonel.

"I've been going over some old reports," Jack waved his hand at Daniel. "Yeah, I know what you're going to say. But the fact is that I was going over old reports. And it got me thinking."

"That sounds dangerous." Daniel stood up and picked up his mug. "Okay, this sounds as though it's going to take a while. Do you want some coffee?"

"I'd prefer a beer." Jack flipped the Velcro cover off his watch. "What do you say we blow this joint and find somewhere more comfortable?"

"Jack, I have a lot to do here."

"It's really bugging me."

"What? The fact that I have a lot to do?" Noticing the somewhat serious expression on Jack's face, Daniel relented. "Okay, let's go," he sighed.

While Daniel cleared his desk, after a fashion, and powered down his computer, Jack sat flipping the cover on his watch. It was a habit he had acquired during his time in Black Ops, and it was intensely annoying to Daniel. He knew better than to mention, however, how irritating the constant flipping and tearing noise was – if Jack was playing with his watch, he was hanging on to his temper by a very fine thread – and suffered in silence.

The two of them left the office and took the elevator to the surface. Jack flipped his watch for the entire time, which caused an uncomfortable feeling to begin building in the pit of Daniel's stomach. They emerged into bright, afternoon sunshine; a sensation which never failed to surprise Daniel. After spending all day in an artificially lit bunker, breathing recycled air, he always expected it to be dark when he left the mountain complex.  As they made their way across the parking lot, Daniel looked over at the Colonel.

"Jack?"

"Daniel?"

"Where do you want to go?" Daniel gestured their cars, which were parked next to each other.

"My place?"

"I have to fill up with gas. See you there."

"Okay. Don't get distracted though, and keep me waiting." Jack winked and got into his car. He wound down the window and leaned out for his parting shot. "Oh, by the way, don't use diesel this time!"

~*~

Jack was sitting outside when Daniel arrived. He looked pointedly at his watch. "Glad you could make it," he gestured with his bottle. "I've had six already."

Daniel ignored his blatant lie, took the seat opposite Jack and took the offered beer. "What are we drinking to?"

"Friendship?"

"Sure." Daniel took a quick pull and put the bottle down. "So, Jack, what's this burning question?"

Jack did what he did best. He played for time. First he took a long drink. Then he fiddled with the beer label, after which he flicked his watch cover a few times. He took out his aviator shades, polished them on the hem of his shirt and held them up to the light, squinted through them, then polished them again several times. Finally he put the shades on and looked at Daniel. "What was the question, Daniel?"

"Your question, Jack." Daniel used his extra patient tone, honed by years of talking to undergraduates who were less clever than they should have been. "The reason you dragged me away from what I was doing. Remember?"

"Remember? No, I don't remember. It's the memory which goes first, you know."

"Jack!"

"Oh, okay, Daniel." Jack removed the shades and placed them on the table.

Daniel reached over automatically, folded them properly and set them so they were glass up. "Look after the lenses, Jack," he admonished. "So?"

"So, what?"

"Okay, I'm leaving," Daniel made no attempt to move.

"What I really want to know is this... er... Do you want something to eat? I have some franks, or wieners or whatever. We could grill?"

"No."

"Pizza?"

"The question is, Jack, how long you think you can keep this up." Daniel folded his arms across his chest.

Jack pretended to look shocked. "Keep what up?" 

"You know, Jack, when I want to know something, I don't give up until I find it. It's what endears me to you, apparently." Daniel smirked.

In return, Jack feigned shock. "Teal'c _told_ you that? I told him to keep it in strictest confidence! You wait 'till I see him again."

"Nice try. The question, if you please."

"Daniel, I just want to say, before I ask you this, that I do value your membership on our," he looked around as if he thought they were being spied upon, and lowered his voice, "team."

"Thank you, Jack."

"And that whatever happens, I do actually, you know, er... um... well, you're a friend. Right?"

"Right." Daniel was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. He schooled his expression into one of bland attention. "We've established that it's 'nothing personal' if I'm understanding you correctly."

"Yes."

"All the usual disclaimers have been applied."

"Yes."

"Give."

Jack's words came tumbling out. "What I really want to know is... do you want another beer?" Jack stood up holding his empty bottle, and indicated Daniel's – which had hardly been touched.

"No, Jack. But go ahead and fetch another. I'll wait."

"I'll be right back."

"I'm counting on it," Daniel sighed and shifted uncomfortably in the wooden chair. Whatever it was that Jack had on his mind would bubble up to the surface – eventually. He looked at his watch. Six-thirty. _Eighteen thirty hours, he corrected himself. They weren't due at work until Monday morning at 07:30 hours. That left a whole lot of hours for Jack to dissemble. Daniel wondered idly if he could last out for forty one hours. _I'll never make it,_ he concluded, and took a long pull on his beer._

By the time Jack returned, holding two bottles of beer and a large dish of pretzels, Daniel was leaning on the table, resting his head against his folded arms. Jack shook him by the shoulder.  "You awake there, Daniel?"

"Sure, Jack." He pushed himself upright. "Where were we?"

"Pretzel?"

"No thanks. Oh yes. The big question."

"I believe, if I have understood everything correctly, that the answer is forty-two."

"Not that question. And," Daniel narrowed his eyes and wagged a finger, "the answer turned out not to be forty-two after all."

"Oh." Jack looked disappointed. "Of course, I stopped at book three of the trilogy, as one does."

"Don't change the subject, Jack."

"I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No, we were talking about..."

Daniel cut him off. "Jack. We're both adults here. At least, one of us is. We know each other well, and I think you should be able to just get this off your chest. Frankly you're starting to worry me."

Jack picked up and put on the sunglasses. He drank some beer and ate a few pretzels. He looked at the top of the tree behind Daniel. He took off the sunglasses and placed them carefully, properly folded, on the table. Finally he looked Daniel in the eye and spoke. "I didn't mean to worry you. I just wanted to see if you were okay. Get you out of your office. Have a chat." His face was deadly serious and Daniel had no doubt of his sincerity.

"I'm okay. I think. Thank you for asking."

"Good. Then we're cool. Pretzel?"

They sat in silence, enjoying the last of the evening sunshine, each lost in their own thoughts. Daniel was genuinely touched by Jack's apparent concern for his wellbeing, although he knew that it was part of his job. Jack could have asked him how he was at the SGC. The fact that Jack had invited him to his home showed him that their attempts to forge a friendship away from their place of work were beginning to pay dividends.

The rest of the evening was spent talking about nothing in particular, eating pizza and – for Jack – drinking two more beers. Anticipating his drive home Daniel had switched to coffee, having politely but firmly declined Jack's offer of a bed for the night. Daniel was slowly coming to accept that Sha're was finally lost to him forever, but he was still grappling with the idea of never seeing her again. His own screams had woken him more than once in the past few weeks, and he had no desire to reveal the depth of his despair to Jack. That would lead to psych evaluation, and there was no way that Daniel would submit to Doctor MacKenzie's scrutiny of his id again.

Later, as he waved goodbye, Jack hid his relief that Daniel had decided not to stay. His offer had been genuine enough, but he wasn't sure how long he could have managed to keep his act up. Going back in to the house he rubbed a hand over his face. _You're a bad liar, O'Neill. Just as well he's too naïve to spot it._ He took the empty bottles back to the basement, tossed the pizza boxes in the trash and put the coffee pot and Daniel's mug in the dishwasher. After checking that the downstairs windows and doors were all closed and locked, he went up to the bathroom and took a long shower.

His question still buzzed around in his head, as it had for nearly two years. He'd come closer to posing it that evening than he had the other three times he had attempted it. He had come to the conclusion that he would never summon the courage to look into his friend's eyes and ask_: 'When you sent me away, on Apophis' ship – were you already planning to return through the Stargate? Or was it really a last-minute stroke of inspiration?'_

~the end~


End file.
